


the devil watches us from the most unexpected places

by PerfectSilence (hitomishiga)



Series: monster related content, [3]
Category: Love Live! School Idol Project
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Body Horror, Demonic Possession, Developing Relationship, F/F, Implied Violence, Implied/Referenced Abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-03
Updated: 2016-10-03
Packaged: 2018-08-19 08:28:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8198068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hitomishiga/pseuds/PerfectSilence
Summary: It was hard, being cursed like this.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Ok so like I brought out a bunch of random monsterish prompts from my actual ass and then randomised some pairings and slapped em on so here. 
> 
> "Demon/cursed child - nozoumi"

Nozomi dabbed at the scars with a cloth of disinfectant. Her patient winced, but held strong. Admirably so. That said, Nozomi could see how strained her jaw was from clenching so hard, and didn't miss how she gripped onto the chair so hard it started to splinter.

“They really did a number on you, huh.”

The girl with the mark, as always, said nothing. It was eerie, the way the burns and bone-deep wounds twisted and melded under Nozomi’s hands. Right before her eyes. They still left scars, though. Pale, white scars just like the ones disfiguring the rest of Umi’s body.

After a satisfactory check, Nozomi tested the Umi’s fingers, one by one. They bent all the right ways, didn't seem too crooked. She received a hiss of poorly concealed pain for her troubles, but nothing more.

“Alright!” Nozomi said cheerily, clapping her hands with enthusiasm that wasn't shared. “It's amazing how fast you heal. Would you mind turning around now, and take your shirt off too. I'd like to see the mark.”

Umi flushed crimson, but many times going through the motions had softened her embarrassment to an extent. Nozomi thought it was cute. A reminder that she was more than just the demon child.

Umi turned around before taking off her shirt, and Nozomi was left to purse her lips sullenly at the network of scars across Umi’s back, tense with lean muscle like the rest of her, built to run, built to fight. Some of these scars were wounds, stark white with new flesh. Some of them were not.

Spanning between her shoulder blades, Umi wore the cursed mark, a demonic brand, a sign of the devil itself. It was an angry red, daring Nozomi to touch it. When she moved her hand to dab the mark with the cloth, the skin around the centre, on the spine, peeled open to reveal one tainted, veiny, demonic eye. It followed the movement of her hand with a glare.

“You can't feel that, can you?” She asked.

“No.”

“Huh.”

Nozomi, wisely deciding to leave the eye for now, instead let her eyes wander to the rest of the flesh that wasn't marred by the unsightly mark - it was starting to blacken, cracking near the epicentre like blighted earth, starting from the mark and spreading outwards. Veins were just visible under the skin, with a reddish tint to them. Unseeming things bulged where the blight was taking hold under the skin. Some already started to pierce through the skin like new teeth.

She couldn't really sugarcoat this, and she knew Umi wouldn't want that, anyway. “It's getting worse,” she said, “I don't know what's going to happen.”

“I know.” Umi's voice sounded so small, so resigned. And Nozomi knew that she knew, too. “I know, but…”

“I'll keeping looking for a cure,” Nozomi assured her, undoing Umi's hair and brushing it through with her fingers. She massaged close to the scalp, hoping to alleviate even the slightest portion of Umi's stress. The swivelling eye of the devil closed shut and melded back together again, leaving only the slightest of wrinkles to indicate it's presence.

It was hard, being cursed like this.

The thought, not for the first time, and certainly not welcomely, came to the forefront of her mind: what would happen to Umi? What will happen once the curse takes hold completely?

Underneath her skilled hands, Umi deflated a little, her spine becoming less rigid, her shoulders relaxing. It was easy to forget Umi is just a girl a year younger than herself - especially when she held herself so firmly, when her edges were all diamond hardness and weariness.

Nozomi resisted the urge to run her finger along the mark down to its epicentre, knowing it was unlikely good would come from it.

Imagine, being born with the touch of the devil and a third eye, without knowing anything else other than ridicule and fear and neglect. Imagine being born a demon, living in the fear of what will happen tomorrow, unsure if your human body is going to hold out another day or collapse under the weight of a lifelong curse.

Imagine.

Nozomi reached down for the bucket of still-steaming water by her feet, dipped in the cloth and wrung it. She placed the cloth gently against Umi’s shoulders, who sighed and leaned back.

“How are you feeling?” She asked, softly. Umi just groaned quietly. Never one to express herself too loudly, was she? Taking each blow with a graceful air and a prideful stoicism. Nozomi had no doubt she was in immense pain, and not just the physical kind, the kind which would heal eventually.

“Nozomi, I-” Umi shook her head, then leaned forward and away. The cloth slipped to the ground, leaving the skin slightly red from heat. She rustled around for her shirt and quickly slipped it back on, not meeting Nozomi’s gaze all the while. Nozomi, knowing Umi would continue in her own time, gathered the cloth and bandages and the bucket and swept them aside. Specks of blood stained her fingernails and palms from tending to the injuries. Nozomi chewed her lip.

Once Umi had gathered up her strength, she breathed in, filling up her space again. Her tone was clipped when she finally spoke, completely devoid of emotion as if to detach herself from emotion itself.

“Nozomi, you have been nothing but kind to me.” She said falteringly. Nozomi waited, patiently. “Even though I - am considered a danger by everyone in the world… You have always been by my side.”

Nozomi wanted to say something in return, but she couldn't think of the words. ‘Of course’ sounded too absolute, ‘you're welcome’, too brazen. But she didn't have to say anything, because Umi stood, fists by her side, and continued.

“By the honour in my name I can't let your kind actions go ungratified.” Umi turned around, still avoiding eye contact, but bowing sincerely. “Please! Let me return your favour in kind!”

What Nozomi wanted to say was, ‘it was no favour at all, I don't expect any reward’. What she said was, “Stay with me.”

“I- what?”

“That's, um.” Nozomi got up, reminded once more that she was, somehow, the taller of the two. Umi, in her shock, accidentally made eye contact - the way her once-brown eyes caught the light that didn't exist in this darkened room sent chills down her spine. “I mean, I know this place is holy ground and all, so we don't really know how it'll affect you in the long run but I - I don't want you going back home. And getting hurt. I mean. It's - Umi?”

She hadn't realised until halfway through her scrambled excuse that Umi was shaking. At first, she feared the worst, until she heard a choking noise and a shaky breath, and realised Umi was crying.

It was quite possibly one of the worst, heart rending sounds Nozomi had ever heard.

“Y- you're so… Your t- too kind t- to me…” Umi bravely managed to blubber, pressing the heel of her palm to her eye. “I - don't un-understand…”

“Oh, Umi…” Without thinking, Nozomi swept Umi in for a hug, instinctually. Thankfully, she wasn't pushed away, but welcomed, perhaps. “There, there…”

As she patted her back, Nozomi couldn't help but frown in concern at the small, hard little nubs under the thin shirt. They reminded her of budding little rose thorns. She could almost feel the invisible, unseen third eye watching her, scrutinising her.

“I care about you, Umi. Honestly.”

Had she said these exact words before, long, long ago?

Probably.

Of course, Umi wouldn't know that. After her violently restrained sobbing ceased, she pulled away with that trademark expression of sheer embarrassment and self conscious shame. Her eyes were still rimmed red with tears. Even so, she remained passive-faced and stony as always.

“Thank you,” said Umi. Her voice was fragile and whisper-thin. It wasn't the voice of a demon child, but of a very hurt and very scared kid. Someone like Nozomi. “I'll stay. For a night.”

“I'm glad.”

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for listening i hope you enjoyed my presentation


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